Between Heaven and Hell
by Golden-Heart the 2nd
Summary: From the point of view of Tarrlok, told in first person present as I work on experimenting with this style, the councilman seeks to discover how he has been given life instead of the death he sought - and finds solace in the arms of the Avatar. Semi-platonic Korrlok; post-finale redemption arc fic. T for thematic material.


_This is based off the writeworld prompt for today "Since When?" and so this story resulted when I should have been paying attention in bio class! Korrlok, as per usual, but this is Korrlok much more platonically than I usually write them, and I'm experimenting with the style of first person present for this piece. It was a new style and different to do, but I think I got the hang of it quickly enough. :3 The title derives from this AMAZING song by 30 Seconds to Mars, Kings and Queens. _

_Rated T for thematic elements._

_Word count: 1, 698_

I hover the Equalist glove over the gas tank of the getaway boat, lowering my head so that I do not have to look at the proud figure of my brother standing at the head of the boat.

Dark thoughts muddle my mind, telling me that I am a failure and that all chance for a new life and redemption is lost because of my past actions against the Avatar, Korra, and against the people I unknowingly oppressed in Republic City – the nonbenders.

"It will be just like the good old days," I agree, the act of agreeing with my brother seemingly pulling itself out of me with my statement.

There is a deafening roar, and then, for a moment, nothing. Before the black cloud of smoke swallows me whole, I feel a waterbending bubble flinging itself over me, encasing me in it as the boat cracks in half as fire licks the walls, and I know Noatak is protecting me once again. Pain sears through my face as fire brushes against it. I open my mouth, yelling "Noatak!" but there is no reply.

The cold contact of the water reminds me of my wounds – Noatak's protective shell had worked, but not quickly enough to prevent injuries – making me dizzy from the bleeding dripping out of my arm and face, soaking my fine clothes along with the water in the sea.

I gingerly raise my left hand to inspect my face, biting back a cry of suppressed agony as my fingers reveal that my right side of my face is burnt and raw. Unable to cope with the stress of nearly killing myself and Noatak, and the loss of half of my face, I feel blackness rolling over me in waves. A sigh emanates from my chest, as I now hope only to drown so that my agony ends.

I slowly become aware that my body is shutting down – my sense of smell is the first to go, and its loss makes the salty scent of the sea vanish. My fingers begin to grow limp as the sense of touch dissipates from them, leaving me floating in the water. I feel my eyes close and I know that I am making the journey over to the Spirit World and am at peace, realising that once again I will be myself in the days before I knew I was a waterbender; simply happy in the state of being unable to bend.

I draw in a deep breath, hoping that the Spirits and the Avatars of the past will forgive me my sins as I feel darkness enfold me in its soothing embrace, losing sight of myself.

My soul emanates from me and I see myself – my broken body – lying on the shore of the beach of Air Temple Island, still except for the wind fluttering the sleeves of my jacket slightly. A figure is bending over me and I try to resist as the person places their body in close proximity to mine, wanting to remain in this liminal world of the spirits but then I watch with amazement as air rushes into my lungs from the force of my unseen saviour, causing my soul's blue form to rapidly place itself again into my pale and broken body lying on the beach.

My eyes still closed, I draw in a welcome inhalation of air, slowly discovering my body awakening again as the spirit returns to instigate my life. Weariness swamps my body, recovering from a death-death experience is never easy, I think to myself as I feel my senses recalling the taste of the sand when the fingers of my left hand brush against them and my nose scents the salty moisture blanketing the air.

My hearing comes back and I hear the voice of someone – I can't place _whom_ – calling my name over and over frantically. The voice of the person is pleading with to me to wake up; to open my eyes, and a shake courses from my shoulders down to my toes. I wish I could just return to my sleep, but the person is insistent.

My eyelids roll to the back of my eyeball; I feel the lashes of my eyes brush against my face as I tremble, still unwilling to leave my position as a spirit roaming between the heaven and hell of our world.

I find my eyes reluctantly blinking, finally opening as I struggle to fight against the bleariness clouding my vision as I seek to adjust to the harsh sunlight filtering in as my perception works to reconcile the fact that I am still alive to the fact that I know I was nearly dead only a few moments ago. Reconciling the brightness of the light to tilt my head upwards, my gaze focussing on my rescuer, which gradually delineates into the visage of Avatar Korra – Avatar Korra! – On my retina as I find myself blinking again, this time from amazement.

"Tarrlok!" She cries aloud in a soft voice. "Thank the spirits you're all right!" She pauses, holding my gaze piercingly. "I was so worried about you."

_Avatar Korra? Avatar Korra was worried about me? _In this moment in time, I can hardly formulate any coherent thought, so I just stare at her blankly.

She draws me into a hug as my eyes widen with shock and my jaw drops, making me grimace in pain, and then grabs me by the shoulders, being careful to touch my damaged right shoulder as gently as possible, still looking me in the eye.

I can't resist, even in my weakened condition and still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I am still alive, from making some sarcastic quip,

"Since when have you cared about me, Avatar Korra?" I hear my voice emerge from my mouth as hoarse and dry as if I hadn't talked in a week instead of only possibly ten hours. I am instantly reminded of my brother and immediately hope to the Spirits that he somehow, like me, is alive. "I would have thought I meant nothing to you."

Korra has the grace to look guilty, almost as if she is aware that she is partially the reason I have ended up in the state I am now in, and I wouldn't be surprised if she does sense that she is guilty in some part for it, given that she is the holder of the balance of the world – and that includes the lives of men.

"I was wrong," She confesses. "Tarrlok, you mean a lot to me… and I need you. I may have thought I didn't, but I was wrong… and I am sorry that I didn't try to help you more when I could," She rises to her feet, extending her hand to me to help me get to my own feet. "So let me help you now."

I take her hand in mine, grimacing as my damaged right half of my body makes contact with the stinging sand as I stand to my feet, allowing the fragment of a smile to slip through my burnt face, knowing that it was crooked, but I see Korra glance at me and it feels as if, to her, that is the most beautiful smile in the world.

I lean against her shoulders, realising the strength she contains in them, and lets her prop me up as we begin to trudge through the sands up to the foundation of Air Temple Island. I only hope that Tenzin is going to be willing to listen to Korra and let her heal me, forgive me, restore me to wholeness.

Korra's silky hair brushes against the still intact half of my face, and I breathe it in, relishing its comforting scent.

"You haven't given me an answer yet," Korra speaks up, breaking the silence between us as we continue to walk, our steps, mine slow and weary, and her own gentle and relaxed to suit my pace, keeping in rhythm with each other.

"You are hard to resist, Avatar Korra," I reply, unintentionally leaning more heavily onto her but she shoulders my weight easily. "My answer is yes." A pause fills the air between us and she turns to look at me, her eyes brimming with unspoken words. "All I want is your forgiveness," I add.

"No, all I want is yours," She murmurs, and I hear the contrition in her tone. She pulls me close again for another hug. "If if wasn't for the intervention of Avatar Aang, who warned me in a vision that you were on the Island and lying near-death I would never have found you… and I must ask forgiveness of you, Tarrlok, because," She amends, a catch entering her voice, "I drove you to this. I left you and I didn't be the Avatar I needed to be. You were right when you said I was a half-baked Avatar, but I didn't want to believe it." She raises her head, staring into my eyes. "And, in an attempt to offer my own atonement to you, I want you to help show me what it means to be a real Avatar – like Aang." I am about to answer but she holds up a finger, hushing me into silence, so I allow her to keep talking. "But only after I help you first."

"You have my forgiveness, Korra," I murmur, using my good arm to draw her closer to me. "And, if you are really willing to listen to my hard and uncomfortable truths about you to help you grow, I will do the best I can."

My legs buckle underneath me as my vision swims again. Dimly, I feel Korra holding me up. I can see the fluttering of a smile on her face.

"Let's get you inside and lay you down," She murmurs. "I have some spirit water from the oasis that I need to put to those wounds immediately."

She gets me moving again, the air filling with comfortable silence, and then I hear her say,

"Thank you, Tarrlok – for your forgiveness."

"No," I reply to her. "Thank you, Korra."


End file.
